California Fire
by Logan Parker
Summary: Previously titled, Foes, Hoes, and Dirty Clothes Complete! Drugs, scams, lies, and betrayals. The Curtis' only thought they'd seen everything.
1. Prologue

_Hey guys, I'm back with a new story. Sorry it took me so long to get going again, but fan fiction is a lot harder than people make it out to be. I need to give props to all those amazing fan fiction writers on this site, such as Pyrojoe, Medea Crowley, CJ7, OnemanShow, and a lot more! You guys rock, so keep writing. _

_Logan Parker_

_The Outsiders _belongs to **S.E. Hinton**

Chapter 1 Prologue (**Pony's Point of View**)

2x+3x-20y+2y 0

I tap my pencil on the face of the desk I'm sitting at, and sigh deeply. I've been sitting here every since Darry got home from work, trying to do the homework he's been hounding me over. It's not that it's hard, far from it actually, it's just that I can't stop thinking about Candy. Man is she ever pretty. Not the average pretty like some girls, but really pretty. Nice too. If it weren't for her being a soc, I might have asked her out by now, but I can tell she don't dig guys like me.

"Ponyboy Curtis, you were on that same problem fifteen minutes ago!" Darry hollers from over my shoulder. I didn't even hear him come into me and Soda's room. I look up at him as innocently as possible.

"Do you not understand it?" Darry asks a little nicer. Every since that night we lost Dally and Johnny, the two of us have been trying to get along better. With both of us working at it, it hasn't been so hard neither. I guess it just takes a little effort from both sides.

"I, uh-no. I don't get it." I answer. It's not exactly a lie either. I mean, like I said, I totally and completely get the problem in front of me. What I don't get however, is how Candy can date a guy as insensitive as Joey Dawn. He's a real jerk if you ask me, but of course she didn't, and I got no reason to think she will. Girls like her-

"Pony!" Darry yells, drawing me out of my silent tirade. I look back up at him, hoping it's not too obvious that I've completely tuned out his whole lecture.

"You get it now?" He asks. I nod after a short hesitation.

"Yeah. Uh, thanks." I answer. He rolls his eyes and messes with my hair.

"No problem kiddo. Just tell me if you don't understand something else and I'll help you out okay?" He asks. I wish I could ask him about Candy, but that would it make it too obvious that I wasn't listening, so I nod instead and watch as he leaves the room. There's just so much I don't understand about girls.

**Soda's Point of View**

The house is relatively quiet when I get home from work. This would have been shocking about three months ago, but every since the night Dally was shot, things have been quiet. Steve is over, and I just barely miss hitting him with my shoe as I fling it off of my foot and send it passing over him, and landing on the floor.

"Damn it Soda! Will you watch where you're kickin' those things?" Steve asks in one of his slightly annoyed tones.

"Well, for someone who had the day off from work, you seem pretty grouchy." I tease him. He rolls his eyes and stays just as somber as before.

"It's just Evie. The bitch is so hardheaded and goddamned flirtatious I just can't stand it." He answers hastily. I nod, showing I understand. I kind of do too, the girl is nuts. Why he's still with her I'll never know.

"Soda? That you?" Darry calls from the kitchen.

"Yep, it's me. Miss me?" I answer back. He pokes his head into the living room and announces that dinner's ready.

"Pony, come eat something!" Darry hollers. Him and Pony have been getting along well enough for the past couple of months, and it's really nice. Makes the house less tense, something we could all use. Pony comes trudging out of his room a moment later.

"Hey, why don't we go out and see a movie after dinner?" I ask, sitting down at the kitchen table next to Pony. Steve sits across from me, next to Darry.

"Yeah, maybe there'll be some good lookin' chicks." Steve agrees.

"Sure there will be. Good lookin' chicks are all over the place." I assure him. Darry rolls his eyes.

"Pony, you wanna go?" I ask him.

"Sure." He answers nonchalantly.

"Did you finish your homework?" Darry asks critically. Pony looks down at his plate and scoots his green beans into a pile.

"Not yet." Pony confesses.

"Then you aint goin'." Darry answers sternly. "It's a school night and you gotta get your homework done."

"Darry-" Pony starts to counter.

"No Pony! You gotta do your work and keep your grades up." Darry snaps before Pony can finish. Darry is real strict about school work. Pony scoots his chair back away from the table and leaves off to his room, to finish his homework I presume.

"Guess it's just us two." I say to Steve. He nods and swallows down a pork chop.

"Maybe we'll catch up with Two-bit." Steve says once he's finished.

"Maybe. But you know how Two-bit gets at movies." I say with a laugh. Just thinking about it cracks me up. I'm not a big movies person myself, just go there for the chicks, but Two-bit can't even sit still long enough to look for _them_. Steve laughs a little himself thinking about it.

"Just make sure you're home by eleven okay?" Darry says, getting up and cleaning off his plate in the trashcan.

"Yep." I answer, following his same action.

"And don't bring home any pregnant girls." Darry adds as Steve and I get ready to head off. I give Steve an amused look and shrug my shoulders.

"We're not promising anything." I tell him. I grab a jacket and follow Steve out the front door and down the street. He sure as been acting weird lately.

**Tim Shepard's Point of View**

I went to the movies around seven to slash some tires, and ended up meeting up with Sodapop Curtis and his friend Steve Randle. Soda's a cool guy, but that friend of his is something else. Especially tonight when he announced that he had better things to do than slash social's tires and get boozed up. I mean, what's the point in living if you don't ruin a few tires and drink a few beers? Anyways, after the movie they actually paid to watch went off, the three of us meet up with some my boys and start looking for trouble. It aint that hard to find. Trouble I mean. It just seems to pop up in weird places at random times. Especially at night, when the darkness masks all the faces that you don't know. And worse yet, all the ones you do.


	2. Fire Starter

Chapter 2 Fire Starter (**Soda's Point of View**)

Tim Shepard is a fun guy most of the time. And while he's slightly reckless, he isn't looking to spend more time in jail seeing as he just got out. I guess it's this reason that persuades me to go along with Tim's idea of 'having some fun'. Apparently there are some soc guys that have been giving Tim's brother, Curly, a hard time, and Tim wants to settle it for good. I, knowing what it's like to have a little brother being picked on by a bunch of socs, decide to help him out a little. 'Sides, he says he only wants to scare em'. Show em' he's not going to stand by and do nothing while Curly comes home with black eyes and bloody noses, and I figure that it shouldn't be too bad. Steve on the other hand isn't too thrilled I can tell, but he hasn't been thrilled about much lately. We don't have nothing else to do anyhow.

By the time we get to the street that Tim claims these guys live on, it's nearly ten. I want to hurry so I can get home before eleven, since I know Darry will freak if I'm not.

"It's that one there." Tim states, breaking the silence. Some of his guys were cracking jokes on the way over here, but got quieter the closer we got to the guys' homes. I guess they aren't looking to get arrested either.

"Nice house." His guy, Jake, states. It _is _a nice house too, though with the way the shadows are falling on it, it looks kind of creepy. I'm starting to regret having gone along with this. Steve gives me a look that says he does too, and I try my best to ignore it.

"Let's just get this over with okay? I got an agenda." Steve gripes in his best 'uncaring' voice. He's my best friend though, and I know when he's nervous. Not that he doesn't have reason to be.

"Yeah? Like what? Fuckin' some whore? Jeez." Tim says lighting a cigarette. His three guys stand beside him waiting for his orders like soldiers under a drill sergeant. Any other time it would have been funny.

"Alright listen up. Here's the plan. The main shit lives in that house there," Tim says nodding his head towards the house we've already been introduced to, "And his buddies live in the one three houses down."

"You're sure?" One of his guys, I think named Pete, asks.

"Yes I'm fucking sure, now you wanna shut the fuck up so I can move on?" Tim snaps. The guys drops his head and tries his best to look unaffected.

"The two of you, and I, will work on the head honcho there," Tim says to Steve and I, "And the three of you will work on his disciples."

"When you say work on…?" Steve asks.

"I mean this." Tim answers, tossing Steve a pack of matches. "We burn the shit heads."

**Steve's Point of View**

At first when Tim tosses me the pack of matches I think it's a joke. Some kind of trick to scare the hell out of me. But when his look remains sinister, and he stalks off towards the guy's house, I know he's not joking. I look over at Soda worriedly, but he's already after Tim.

"Tim, you can't be serious!" Soda tries, his naturally easygoing attitude now on edge.

"Why the hell not?" Tim asks over his shoulder, not bothering to stop. I trudge slowly after Soda, looking over my own shoulder suspiciously. Man this is bad.

"Burning his house down? You know what'll happen if we get caught? We'll go to prison for a long time!" Soda hisses. Tim stops halfway across the street and watches his guys disappear into the darkness. Then, he turns to Soda and I.

"Who says we're going to get caught?" He asks, as if we were talking about spray painting a school cafeteria.

"What if this guy doesn't get out? What if he burns to death? Then they'll be looking for someone for murder!" I add. Tim stares me down with an amused glare.

"One less soc to deal with." He answers, tossing his cigarette on the ground as he starts towards the back of the house.

"Soda…Soda you're not really going through with this are you?" I ask anxiously. I really just want to get the hell out of here. Soda looks at me, his brown eyes reflecting my fear.

"No Stevie. I'm not going through with this." Soda answers, and I let out a sigh of relief. We look back towards the house and see that Tim is no where in sight. Soda shrugs and grabs my arm.

"Let's go home. Before Darry hit's the roof." Soda says calmly, throwing me one of his famous grins. I feel better almost instantly and nod my consent. We go back to the other side of the street and head back towards where we came from. I figure we'll probably be able to make it back to the Curtis' by midnight, so Darry shouldn't be too mad. I'll crash there tonight. After all this, I don't want to deal with a fight from my old man.

"Holy hell!" Soda yells, pulling me out of my thoughts. I stop in my tracks and turn to face where he's pointing. We're too far away to see the houses anymore, but we can see the night sky fill up with angry, orange, flames and thick, gray, smoke. The two of stand there gawking for what seems like forever, before Soda grabs hold of my shoulders.

"Race you home."

**Darry's Point of View**

Twelve fifteen. I'm trying my best not to look at the clock every ten seconds, but Soda is never late. Well, I guess I shouldn't say never, but he's not near as forgetful as Pony. That's what worries me the most. It obviously is worrying Pony too, because even though I've told him to go to sleep at least five times, I know he hasn't. He doesn't sleep too well without Soda. I leave the front window and make my way to my chair in the living room. If he's not home in twenty minutes I'll go out looking for him. How many times have I said that to myself in the past hour or so?

I pick up the paper and read articles I've already read. I try to tell myself not to worry, that everything is fine, but I don't believe it for a second. Damn that kid better have a good excuse as to why he's late!

"Darry, sorry we're late!" Soda yells, barging through the door as if he could hear my thoughts.

"Where have you been! No movie gets out that late!" I yell, then lower my voice when I remember that Pony is supposed to be asleep. I study Steve and Soda a minute when they don't answer me, and I know right away that something is wrong.

"Steve? Soda? Where-" I start.

"Look, uh, we just got caught up." Steve interrupts, throwing himself on the couch.

"I'll say." I answer bitterly, glaring down at Soda. Soda looks at me with a guilty expression and I try not to give into him.

"Soda, when I tell you to be home at a certain time, I expect you to be home at that time." I tell him quietly, but firmly.

"I know, I'm real sorry Darry, Steve and I just lost track of time." Soda says innocently.

"Well then you'll know why you aren't seeing anymore 'movies' for at least the next week." I answer. He nods and I place my hand on his shoulder.

"Go get to bed then." I tell him. "Steve, you staying here tonight?" I ask, but he's already sound asleep on the couch.

"Guess he won't mind me answerin' yes for him." Soda says, smiling slightly as he stared down at his friend. Something wasn't right with him, I could feel it. Soda isn't the best liar in the world, but he's even worse at hiding what he's feeling. Before I can ask him about it though, he's down the hall and into the room he shares with Pony. I figure I'll deal with it tomorrow.

**Pony's Point of view**

I'm glad when Soda finally comes home and climbs into bed next to me. I don't sleep well without him. I listened in on he and Darry's conversation, and I can't help but wish I could get off that easily. If that had been me coming home past midnight, Darry would have yelled like there was no tomorrow. But it wasn't me, it was Soda. And no one can really ever get mad at Soda.

"You asleep Pony?" Soda asks. I shake my head and then remember that it's too dark for him to see.

"Nope. I was waitin' for you to come home." I answer truthfully.

"Well, sorry I kept you up." He answers, throwing his arm across me.

"It's okay. Hey Soda?" I ask. He answers me with a tired grunt.

"What did you and Steve _really_ do?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"Just what Steve and I do best Pony. Pick up chicks." He answers, and I feel a hint of betrayal, knowing I've just been lied to.


	3. The condemned

Chapter 3 The condemned (**Soda's Point of View**)

Today has been the slowest day of my life. Steve didn't show up for work, leaving me on my own to handle all the old and senile customers that showed up at the DX to gripe about bad service. The worst part is, he didn't tell me he wasn't showin' up, so my boss had me working overtime. Luckily, my shift is finally over, and I'm on my way home. I was thinking about calling up Steve or Two-bit to see if they wanted to hang out later on tonight, but Darry won't let me do anything for coming home late last night, and I figure if Steve stayed out without telling me ahead of time, it's probably serious. I hope he's not sick or nothing.

When I get home, Pony is sitting on the floor with his science book and papers spread out around him. Two-bit is lounging on the couch, yelling at the football players on TV.

"You know Two-bit, the players can't hear you." I tell him sarcastically, winking at him for good measure.

"Ah yeah, well maybe they'll here you when I slap your ass all the way to California." Two-bit answers back, tackling me to the floor. He pulls my arms around my back, and I flip him over my head, with quite some difficulty.

"You guys! I'm trying to think!" Pony yells irritably. Two-bit lets go of me, and I punch him in the shoulder before sitting up.

"Sorry Pony. How was school?" I ask, wanting to talk about anything but last night. I still get chills when I think about those orange flames spitting up in the sky.

"Fine. Boring. Pointless. Our track couch cut one of our best runners for getting in a fight, which I think is stupid. Now we'll loose every meet because some damn hotshot tried to start shit with our team captain." He answers, obviously in a bad mood.

"Don't let Darry hear you talk like that, kid, he'll see red." Two-bit answers. It's true too. I try to think about when Pony started talking like that to begin with. It's not in his character normally.

"Speaking of Darry," I say, pulling myself up to my feet, "Where is the guy?"

"Working late. Said he'll be home around seven. And for you not to go anywhere." Pony tells me. I sigh and head off towards the kitchen.

"I know, I know. Man he sure takes things so seriously. I'll start dinner." I tell him, flipping through the freezer to see what we have.

"Make sure it's something good." Two-bit calls from his place in the living room. "Preferably green."

**Darry's Point of View **

I get home around seven fifteen, glad that Soda's already cooked dinner. Today the heat index got to nearly one hundred and four, which is real hot when you're roofing houses. After we eat, Pony goes to his room to write a book report on some weird novel, and Two-bit starts telling Soda about this new girl, that isn't blond, but still hot. I roll my eyes and flip on the TV. Man that kid is crazy.

I stop flipping the channels when I get to the news, and I listen to them repeat everything they said this morning. How hot it was. Something about a drug scam, and then I turn it up when they post up pictures of burned house.

"Police say that at around eleven o clock last night, the house you see behind me was burned to the ground. One man was in that house when the fire broke out, and sources say, that man was killed." The brunette reporter says solemnly. I frown at the damaged house and shake my head. The nerve that some people have. When I stand up to make some coffee, I see Soda standing at the living room entrance. His face pale with horror.

**Soda's Point of View**

Oh my God. The kid actually died. He didn't get out of the house. Why didn't I stop Tim damn it? Why didn't I do something? Oh jeez, this is bad.

"Soda? Soda what's the matter?" Darry asks worriedly. I snap my head in his direction and lean on the wall behind me.

"No-nothing Darry. Don't worry about it. Just feeling a little sick is all." I answer. That's not a lie either. I feel awful. Like I could throw up at any moment.

"You sure?" Darry asks, placing his hand on my forehead. "You're not warm."

"I'm fine Darry." I say sharply, pulling away from him. I go into the kitchen to do the dishes, hoping it'll take my mind off of this. Man, what have I gotten myself into?

**Pony's Point of View **

Soda's been acting kinda strange for the past two hours, smoking cigarettes and not saying too much. Soda only smokes when something is bothering him, but he swears nothing's wrong. I stare at him from my desk, watching him blow smoke at the ceiling.

"Soda?" I call softly.

"I'm fine Pony, honest, okay?" He whispers back, trying to give a reassuring smile. It's not reassuring though. Not the least bit. My head jerks up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. Nobody rings our doorbell, so I'm curious as to who could be at our house. Especially at almost ten at night. I exchange glances with Soda, and the two of us get up and got to the living room, where Darry is already at the door.

"Darrel Curtis?" The man at the door asks. His deep voice seems to fill up the room.

"Yes." Darry answers anxiously.

"Officer Jamie Taylor, I have a warrant." The officer answers, flipping his badge. Darry backs away from the door to allow him, along with two other officers, to enter.

"I need to speak to Mr. Sodapop Patrick Curtis." The officers says brusquely. Darry and I look at Soda curiously.

"Th-that'd be me." Soda answers him.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis, you're under arrest for arson and murder in the first degree."


	4. Dallas, Not Texas

_Thanks to all of you reading a reviewing. I apologize in advance for any grammar/spelling mistakes I miss. I try to catch them all. Comments/suggestions are always welcome. Just a warning, things are going to get a little bumpy, so I hope you're up for it. _

_Logan Parker_

Chapter 3 Dallas, Not Texas (**Steve's Point of View**)

I've been here for almost four hours, repeating the same thing over and over. I was innocent. Soda was innocent. We had nothing to do with the fire. Still, I'm getting no where with this hardheaded cop. He keeps flinging his finger in my face and screaming about how they have witnesses and all kinds of other shit. I should have known this would happen. Why the hell did Soda want to get involved with Tim for God's sake?

"My son aint no goddamned arsonist!" My father screams from outside the questioning room. He's been screaming like this non stop every since I got hauled in. At least they know now what I have to deal with all the damned time.

"Son, we have a couple of cops going to pick up your friend right now." The big officer tells me, finally tired of yellin' I guess. "Now it'll be easier on both of you if you'll just tell the truth. Get it off your back. Tell us what happened."

"Aint nothing to tell that hadn't been told already." I tell him smoothing. "Soda an' I are innocent. It's those Shepard boys you need to be lookin' for." His eyes light up at the mention of the Shepards.

"Ole Tim ay? He got something to do with this ruckus?" He asks me in a conspiring tone.

"Oh he's got a hell of a lot more than _something _to do with it."

**Soda's Point of View**

I wouldn't look at my brothers as the cops snapped the metal handcuffs to my wrists, nor did I speak a word all the way to the police station. I was shocked beyond belief. However now as they lead me down the hallway, and I catch sight of Steve being questioned in a gray room by a storming officer, words finally come to me.

"You've got the wrong guys." I say strongly, as the officer leads me to a chair in a room similar to the one I saw Steve in.

"The wrong guys huh? Well, that's strange because we got three witnesses that say they saw the two of you at the scene of the crime." The officer that arrested me answers back. He sits in the chair across from me and studies me hard. I study him right back.

"They're lying." I say as bravely as I can. Truth be told I'm terrified. Angry as hell, but terrified as well.

"I've been set up. Steve and I both have." I tell him when he doesn't answer me.

"Set up have you now? I have to say that, that's quite a cliché. If you wanted to go for original, you could have tried for something more along the lines of-" Officer Taylor tells me menacingly.

"I'm not trying to be original, _officer_, I'm trying to be honest. Steve and I had nothing to do with this fire. We were there-" I interrupt.

"You were there?" He interrupts in return, jotting something down on a piece of paper. I beg myself to act tuff and not break down crying.

"Yeah, Steve and I was there. See what happen was, Tim Shepard-" I start to explain, but stop when his head snaps up to attention.

"Tim Shepard? Tim Shepard had something to do with this?" He asks with a hint of shock. I wonder why, but nod yes as uncaringly as possible.

"Yep. He's the mastermind behind this whole plot. He and a group of guys-" I start again, just to be cut off once more.

"Wait a minute there. A group of guys said they saw you and your buddy along that way, up to no good, at the time of the fire. Now aint nothing been said about Tim Shepard. So, unless you're pulling some shit over on me-" Officer Taylor says angrily.

"Look _Officer_, I aint pulling no shit over on you! I'm telling you that my friend and I have been set up! This is a mistake! Tim Shepard said his brother Curly was having some trouble with some guys. Wanted to get even, so he got me and Steve and some of his guys together and showed us where the houses were. Wanted us to burn em', but we wanted no part of it!" I yell, forgetting all about being scared. I can't believe Tim would stoop this low. Pull shit this big. The nerve he had. Sure we've never been close, but we aint ever had problems with each other neither. I'm about to say something else, when the room door barges open and a man of about twenty-eight strolls in coolly.

"Sodapop Curtis?" He asks. I nod yes.

"I'm Roger Stefan, you're lawyer. Don't say another word." He tells me, holding out his hand. I take it lackadaisically. I really just want to get out of here, and I don't care who helps me.

"Wait just one minute hot shot! Your boy has already been identified, along with his friend, as the arsonists. Now I don't know who you think you are, but-" Officer Taylor protests, standing up.

"Like I said, I'm his lawyer. And unless you plan on charging my client with a man that was already dead, I suggest you release him right this second." Stefan answers with authority. My facial expression must match the one of Officer Taylor, because Stefan opens the folder he's been holding and tosses it on the table between the officer and I.

I feel my body paralyze with shock, as I stare down at the badly burned body of Dallas Winston.


	5. Dally Aint No Jesus

Chapter 5 Dally Aint No Jesus (**Darry's Point of View**)

"Dallas Winston? That's impossible!" I yell at the Chief of police, who stands in front of me with a look of dread and confusion on his face. When Soda was hauled in last night for arson and murder, I about died. Soda wouldn't do something like this! But after he called me this morning to tell me that they're holding him and Steve for the murder of Dallas Winston, I had to come down to the station myself.

"Look, I know how this seems…" The Chief, Alan, tells me.

"How it _seems_!" I scream. "Dallas Winston was our buddy! Dallas Winston died nearly three months ago from a bullet wound to the chest! We were all there! We saw it happen!"

"I understand Darrel. You can only imagine the chaos that the rest of us have been dealin' with, trying to figure out how a kid that was killed three months ago, ended up being burned in a fire. It's doesn't make sense to us either. Especially Since the cop that killed Dallas works here at this station." Alan answers seriously. His eyes are red, and it's obvious he hasn't slept none since this Dallas' body was found. Hell, neither of I.

"Who?" Pony asks from behind me. He had been so quiet the whole time, that I had nearly forgot he was with me.

"What do you-" Alan begins.

"You said the man that killed Dally works here. Who is he?" Pony asks. I wanted to get onto him for interrupting the Chief of police, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. He didn't sleep much last night either, and I knew he was just as worried as I was. I guess when your brother and friend are arrested for murder, it kinda makes you edgy.

"Um, well, the officer who _shot _Dallas was named Anderson. John Anderson. Actually, John did most everything when it came to Dally's case. He did the autopsy, filed the-" Alan answers. I'm the one who interrupts this time. I could care less about this cop that shot Dally. I'm worried about getting Soda and Steve out of this jam.

"About Soda and Steve." I say as politely as possible, which probably still aint that polite givin' the circumstances. Alan blows out a breath that it seems he's been holding in for quite a while, and sits down behind his desk.

"Fingers have been pointed Darrel. More than one person has claimed to see the two of them down that way when the fire started. They themselves admitted to being there, though they claim Tim Shepard had something to do with it." Alan tells me, wonderment in his eyes. I can feel my hands clinch to fists.

"Of course Tim Shepard had something to do with this. Tim Shepard has something to do with all the shit that goes on around here." I answer back angrily, suddenly regretting cussing around Pony.

"Soda wouldn't light a house on fire. Or Steve, and I don't even _like_ him." Pony tells Alan, avoiding my glare at his admission to not liking Steve.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't run on the character analysis' the two of you give me. The justice system deals with facts and evidence, and so far we aint got nothing to tie Tim to this scheme." Alan answers tiredly. I think if it weren't for us, he'd pass out cold on his desk.

"Well, what I'm wondering is this. If you guys deal with facts and evidence, how in hell did Dallas Winston manage to get his ass killed _twice _in one lifetime?" I ask out loud. A soft chuckle comes from the Chief and I look at him with confusion.

"Somehow, it's doesn't surprise me."

**Pony's Point of View **

While Darry went on making small talk to the chief of police, I already had all the information I needed. John Anderson. I thought it couldn't be more obvious if his name was written in big, bold, letters across Dally's forehead. The chief himself had mused about how this Anderson guy was the one who took care of all the aspects of Dally's case. I knew if I wanted to know the real details of Dally's resurrection and get my brother off the hook for this fire business, I would have to talk to him. Not that I thought he would just pour the story out in my hands. I'm not that stupid. Once Darry and I got back home, I announced I was going to the Dingo, and made my way to Buck's place. I was going to need a real tuff looking heater.

**Buck's Point of View**

There are very few things that surprise me nowadays. I've experimented with so many drugs, and seen so many unnatural things, that rarely can something be so out of the ordinary, that it captures my curiosity. However, Ponyboy Curtis was the last person I expected to see when I opened my front door. And his reason for being here, well, it surprised me.

"I need a gun." Pony says in a hard tone. He don't sound nothing like the kid that showed up here after being involved with the murder of Bob Sheldon. No, this isn't a scared little kid. This is a ruff looking guy on a mission.

"Uh, get inside kid. Give me something to work with. Why you need a heater? Kill someone again?" I ask, stepping back to let him inside. I know for a fact his brothers don't let him come here.

"You watch the news lately?" He asks in his same ruff tone. Damn this kid has changed since I last saw em'.

"Do I look like the kind of bastard to watch the news?" I ask sarcastically, but he doesn't bother answering.

"Soda and Steve have been arrested for murder." Pony tells me straight up. No messin' around I guess.

"Really, you don't say? Who've they gone and popped off this time?" I ask with amusement. Damn these Curtis'. Anger flashes through the kid's eyes and I know I've said the wrong thing.

"They aint _popped_ off nobody." He answers meanly. "They were arrested, don't mean they did it."

"Yeah, and what'll a gun solve?" I ask. Kind of a dumb question, but what does he plan on doing? Shooting the whole goddamned police force? If so, I don't want nothing to do with it.

"A lot. It'll get me the answers of who really burned a house down, and killed a man, and why." Pony answers. I sit down at my kitchen table and prop my feet up.

"I don't need nothing fancy. Just something that'll scare the answers out of a cop." Pony goes on. I think about what this kid has to offer, knowing it aint money.

"And what about me? What do I get out of it?" I ask menacingly. Hey, a man's gotta live. The smirk on his face is enough to knock the cockiness outta my voice. The kid is getting creepier by the second.

"You wanna know how Dallas Winston managed to resurrect himself from the dead?"


	6. The Answer

Chapter 6 The Answer (**Pony's Point of View**)

I shove the heater that Buck gave me inside my jacket, and I walk down the street to 678 Nickels Lane. It was surprisingly easy to find out where this John Anderson fellow lived, and with Darry preoccupied with Soda's lawyer, it was easy to think of an excuse to get out of the house. I can't help but laugh to myself as I think about the encounter with Buck yesterday. He had nearly flipped out when I told him the story about how Dallas Winston was the man that was burned to death, and he let me choose any gun I wanted. I sure had to act up a storm to keep control of the conversation though. I'm not often a violent or controlling person. But Dally always said that Buck was all talk and you could get what you wanted from him if you went about it in the right way.

It's nearly six o clock in the evening, and Soda has been in jail for almost three days. Gosh it seems so much longer than that. He looked like he had been in there a lifetime when I visited him earlier today. Visiting hours were at four, and Two-bit, Darry, and I, all went to visit Steve and Soda. They both had seemed beat and awful tired. I couldn't stand seeing Soda behind bars. There had been no sign of Tim or Curly since the fire, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I know if Darry saw either on of them, they wouldn't be seeing straight for a long time.

I stop when I get to the right address, and look down at the piece of paper I wrote the address down on to make sure it's the right place. It is. I walk up the brick steps, and hesitate on the front porch, trying my best to ignore my heart pounding through my chest. Finally I ring the doorbell and wait for what seems like forever for the door to be answered.

"Hello?" The woman at the door says, smoothing down her apron before looking me over curiously.

"Hi, uh, John An-Anderson. Does he live here?" I ask as steadily as possible. She looks at me apprehensively but nods anyways.

"Around back. In the shed, fixing the lawn mower." She tells me, smiling. "Would you like me to get him for you?" I shake my head.

"No thanks. I'll go meet him back there." I answer. When she looks worried, I add, "He came to our school to talk to us about law enforcement stuff a while back. I want to be a cop, so I figured I'd talk to him." She laughs and nods.

"Oh okay. I didn't know he talked to students. Well, go on honey." She answers, and I sigh with relief. I really wouldn't want to scare a lady. I walk around the back of the house to where the shed is, and I can hear Anderson whistling away, and cursing the lawn mower when it refused to start up. I stand at the entrance of the doorway until he notices me there.

"Well, hello. I didn't notice you. Uh…can I help you?" He asks, not near as nervously as his wife, but still hesitant.

"I need to talk to you." I state. He puts down his tools and looks past me at the open shed door. I close it and turn back around to face him.

"There's really no need to close the door." He says anxiously.

"Tell me about Dallas Winston." I state. His eyes grow slightly wide and his jaw clenches together.

"I-uh…I shot him a while back." He states, not knowing how much I already know.

"No, you killed him a while back. Three months ago to be exact. And then he miraculously came back to life. You know anything about that?" I ask firmly. He rubs his hands together and takes a step towards me and the door. I pull the gun out of my pocket and watch as his face grows pale.

"There's no need for that kid." Anderson whispers.

"Don't try any shit with me. My brother is jail right now, for the murder of a kid _you _supposedly killed. A kid that so happened to be our friend. Now I want to know what happened that night under the street light. I want to know what went on between you and Dallas Winston." I tell him strongly. He looks less tense as he rubs his hand through his hair and sits down on the broken lawn mower.

"If you repeat any of this, I'll just deny it." The officer tells me.

"Just get on with it." I say harshly. I try to contain the joy I'm feeling for actually getting somewhere. There's a long silence before he begins.

"Johnny was going to get the death penalty for killing Bob Sheldon. Despite the fact that it was self-defense, Johnny was a greaser in a soc world. You of all people should know how that is." He starts, looking at me to confirm I understand. I confirm nothing. Especially not the surprise I have at hearing him use the terms 'greasers' and 'socs'.

"Dally was close to Johnny you know." He says.

"I know. They were my friends." I say and regret it instantly. I don't want him to see my emotions.

"Well, Dally wanted to get Johnny out of trouble. Off the hook. So he sent the two of you away, and began working on a plan to clear Johnny's name." He tells me. So far he hadn't told me anything I didn't know.

"What do you have to do with this?" I ask impatiently. Again, there's silence.

"I was investigating a drug scam. I'm not talking about a couple of dope dealers makin' a few bucks. I'm talking about thousands of dollars and pounds of shit being imported and exported. Serious shit. And, I thought I knew who was behind it. Involved at least." He says, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Tim Shepard. I had a gut feeling that the Shepards and their guys were a big part of it. But gut feelings don't mean jack shit in this business. You got to have evidence. Witnesses. The whole shebang. I knew Dallas ran with Tim Shepard, knew the bastard and had a friendly relationship. So I made him a deal. If he'd get me cold, hard, proof…something to lock Tim and his asshole brother up for good, I would make sure that him and Johnny both got out of town. Got new names, new identities…new lives." Anderson tells me. The whole time I'm trying to fit the pieces together. Trying to see it as the truth and place it with the fire.

"He got me what I needed too. Oh boy did he get it for me." Anderson says, going on. "I made the plans to get them out of town as promised, but Dally made me go through it before releasing the information against Tim. I could understand how he would want it that way, so I agreed. We faked Johnny's death in the hospital, threw a bullet proof vest on ole Dally, and went through we the whole plan. It was perfect."

"Apparently not." I say roughly. He looks at me startled, as if remembering for the first time that I was there, and then he nods. I relax the gun at my side.

"There was a snitch. Another cop that was cutting deals with Shepard, Alex Winder. Buying drugs, selling drugs, getting money. When he heard about Dallas, he put two in two together. Knew that Dally must have leaked information out to a cop, and told Tim everything. The bastard was able to get rid of all the evidence before anyone could catch him, got off splotch clean." Anderson confirms.

"But Dally and Johnny would have been long gone." I say out loud. I can't help but feel a hint of betrayal at the fact that Johnny had faked his own death. Even though I know it wasn't something he probably wanted to do, I just can't believe that he'd let us think he was dead.

"See that's what don't make sense. Dally and Johnny were outta sight. Dead to the world. But then Dally came home. Came back and Tim was out for blood. Decided to get even, I presume, and kill Dally once and for all. But it would have been too damn obvious that it was him, so he had to get someone else to pin the blame on." Anderson says.

"Soda and Steve." I say to myself more than to him. He nods.

"Yep. Soda and Steve. He knew they wouldn't do anything probably, but that didn't matter. All he needed was to hire some guys that didn't have no police records, to come along as witnesses. Damned near perfect plan." Anderson says looking at me.

"So how do I prove Soda and Steve are innocent?" I ask incredulously.

"Find proof that Tim did it." Anderson answers.

"Well how the hell do I do that? Why don't you just testify in court-" I yell.

"Can't do that kid." He states, standing up. "I do that and then Tim will know it was me that tried to bust him. Tim has connections. I have a family to be concerned about."

"Then how?" I ask in defeat.

"You have to figure out what made ole Dally return." He answers.

"And I do that by…?" I ask.

"Well, the way I look at it, there's only one person in this world that'll know the answer to that." He tells me, heading towards the door. This time, I make no attempt to stop him.

"Johnny." I whisper.

"You find Johnny Cade," Anderson confirms, "And you find the answer to all your problems."


	7. Visitng Hours

_Thanks again for all the reviews. I really appreciate it. I hope you guys are ready for more scandals and betrayals, 'cuz this thing aint over yet._

_Logan Parker_

Chapter 7 Visiting Hours (**Soda's Point of View**)

Today is the forth day I've been in prison for killing my friend that was already dead. The first time I thought that, it sounded weird and impossible, but now it just seems normal. What's so strange about killing a dead person? Even if they are your friend? Even if you didn't do it? I know that things are bad when that starts to make sense.

Pony, Darry, and Two-bit have been visiting Steve and I regularly. When they're here things don't seems as bad as they do now. Listen to me. I've been here for four days and I'm already going insane. No wonder my parents attempts at grounding me always failed. Great, just bring up my parents. Make myself feel worse. But man this is a whole heck of a lot worse. The only thing worse than being punished for something you did do, is being punished for something you _didn't_ do. Especially when it involves murdering a best friend. A best friend you thought was already dead. Jeez.

"Sodapop Curtis, you have a visitor." The jailor says, opening my cell. I can't believe it's visiting hours already. I walk down to the visiting room, and sit at my chair behind a thick glass panel, surprised to see it's only Ponyboy today.

"Hey kiddo. Where's the other guys?" I ask, glad to finally be able to talk to somebody. You wouldn't believe how lonely it gets in prison.

"Talking to Steve. I wanted to talk to you alone. How have you been?" He asks. I look down at myself subconsciously and shrug. I don't like looking this way, in a prisoner's uniform, in front of my little brother. I feel guilty, like I did something wrong that I should be ashamed of. I have to keep telling myself I'm innocent, or I might forget.

"I'm alright I guess. What do you need to talk about?" I ask. He stares intently at his hands, like he doesn't know how to go about answering the question, and then looks up at me.

"I went to Buck's the other day." He states. I know my eyes have grown wide when Pony goes on. "Just for a little, there was something I needed to pick up."

"Which was?" I ask slowly, not knowing if I really want to know what my little brother was doing at Buck's place. Darry would kill him if he figured out.

"A gun." He states, and the words shock me to silence.

"A….a gun?! What the hell for?" I ask. He stares back at his hands.

"Soda, you can't tell Darry anything I'm about to tell you. It's important that you don't." He tells me. Oh no. This can't be good.

"Dally wasn't the only one still alive. Johnny is too." Pony states like he's talking about the weather. I feel my body shake with the news.

"I have to find him Soda. It's the only way to get you out of here. The problem is…I don't know where to look for him." My little brother tells me. I wonder if he's losing it too. Going insane. Johnny's alive? It's just not possible. The whole thing just isn't possible.

"Look Soda, I know this is a lot, and I don't have time to explain it right now, but I need your help. Where could Johnny be?" He asks me desperately. I rack my brain for possible answers.

"There was a place in Oklahoma City. A car garage that Dally used to go to when he would sell parts of stolen cars. Said it was the safest place in the 'whole damned state'. I only know this because sometimes when we'd drag race, we'd take the cars we won over there and sell them. If Dally came back to Tulsa, and wanted Johnny to come to Oklahoma, he would have wanted him to be somewhere safe. That's where I'd have to guess he'd be." I tell him. His eyes light up at the information, and the prison guard tells me that times up. There's a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Be careful Pony. Please." I tell him.

"You too Soda." He answers, turning to leave.

"I love you kid." I whisper as he walks back down the hallway. "So goddamned much."

**Darry's Point of View**

I meet up with Pony after visiting hours, and ask him how Soda was. He shrugs and says he is the same as always, but somehow I don't believe that. Pony has been acting strange lately, and I'm not sure why. Yesterday he went on a walk around six and didn't come home till after nine. I didn't hound him about it, since I know he likes to think and stuff, but it's starting to worry me. I'm not sure if I'm just worrying too much though.

"Steve was mad as hell." Two-bit tells him, throwing his arm around his shoulders.

"You shouldda seen em' kid. He was cussin' up a blue moon about bad food and mean wardens and his lunatic cellmate. Shit he was a madder n' I'd ever seen em' before." Two-bit says.

"Two-bit." I say harshly, trying to warn him against cussing around Pony. He pays me no attention though, and keeps on telling Pony about Steve's tirades. I follow behind them and think through their situations. Steve and Soda's I mean. It's killing all of us not having them home. Social services have called a few times, and that bothers me a lot. Stefan, Soda's lawyer, keeps telling me not to worry because they don't have a motive or proof against Steve and Soda. All they have are witnesses. But I'm afraid that, that might be all they need.

**Pony's Point of View**

I visited Buck again. It was my only choice if I wanted a ride to the car garage in Oklahoma City. Plus, I knew that he would be the only one that knew exactly where it was. Soda said he'd only been there once, so I doubted he the knew the address. Plus there had to be a reason it was so safe. I doubted they had a huge sign announcing it's presence. Of course Buck gladly volunteered to take me to this place in the morning, so I told him I would skip school and meet up with him around eight a.m. I just hope I can do all this without being caught by Darry. The last thing I need is for him to be worrying about me skipping school. He has enough to worry about already. Plus, we've been doing an okay job of not fighting.

I keep thinking of Darry, to take my mind of Johnny. Is he really alive? Could he really be less than hour away? And if so, would he have the answers I'm looking for? Could he tell me why Dally came home? Would he come back to Tulsa with me to testify? Would it do any good if he did? Would Tim get arrested? Would Soda and Steve be set free?

What would I say to my best friend, who was dead just five days ago?


	8. Johnny Be Good

Chapter 8 Johnny Be Good (**Pony's Point of View**)

"We should be there in another five minutes or so." Buck tells me without taking his eyes off the road. An hour trip has turned into almost two because of traffic. I'm not sure if I wish we could get there faster, or if I hope we get lost and never find it. I'm anxious and nervous at the same time.

"You okay kid?" Buck asks. I give him an annoyed look and go back to looking out the window. Am I okay? What kind of question is that? My best friend is still alive, and I'm going to see him. I can't get that through my head. I saw him die.

"So, if uh…if this kid is really here, then what?" Buck asks, obviously not affected by my death glares.

"I….don't know." I admit. God, what am I doing? I'm finding Johnny that's what. Why? To find out why Dally came home. To get Soda and Steve out of prison. To save the goddamned universe.

"That's it there." Buck says, parking on the side of the road beside a black Volkswagen. I look in the direction he's gesturing too, and spot a gray building that looks like it's been in shambles for decades. I look around the part of town we're in, and notice how shady it is. I can't believe this is where Johnny is living. _Living_.

"Well, are we going to go in or stare at it all day?" I ask bitterly, hopping out of Buck's car. He follows me without answering. I cross the street quickly, taking comfort in the weight of the heater in my jacket, and just barely miss getting hit by a bus.

"Damn kid. Are you just trying to get killed?" Buck says from behind me. I don't bother answering. Instead I keep my eyes on the building like it might disappear. We can't enter through the front of it, so Buck and I got around back, and are greeted by two big guys with Cuban cigars.

"Well, well, Freddie, looks like we got trespassers." One man says to the other, his dark hair blending in with his leather jacket.

"I'm looking for someone. I think he's here." I state as bravely as possible.

"Yeah? What makes you think that?" The other man, Freddie, asks tauntingly.

"He's a friend of Dallas." Buck perks up from behind me. "So don't pull any kind of shit."

"A friend of ole Dal huh? Well, any friend of his is a friend of mine." The first guy answers.

"I'm looking for Johnny Cade." I say gruffly, getting sick of the wait. The men pass unreadable glances to each other and turn back towards me.

"How do you know Johnny Cade, kid?" Freddie asks seriously. For a second, I think he's going to hit me. Buck steps back self-consciously.

"He's a friend. A good friend. And I need his help." I answer. The men glance at each other again.

"Look, I know he's here, so just run up and tell him Ponyboy Curtis is here for him. Tell him it's important." I order. Freddie shrugs and disappears, leaving Buck and I with the other man. No one says anything until Freddie comes back down.

"This way." Freddie says more nicely, opening the side door to the garage and gesturing for us to come in. The other man stays outside with Buck as Freddie leads me up a flight of stairs. I take notice of the other guys, all big as to be expected, working on cars and taking out parts. I bet Soda loved this place. It's like a mafia run DX. Freddie clears his throat and knocks on the door in front of us.

"I'll be outside." He tells me, before turning and heading back down the stairs. The decaying door swings open, and I stand face to face with the kid who killed Bob Sheldon.

"Johnny." I state. He blinks forcefully, as if making sure I'm really there, and then opens the door all the way to let me in. I hesitate for a moment before following him inside the dimly lit room, and watch with fascination as he sits down on the bed, then stands up again.

"Ponyboy." He whispers. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

"Want a smoke?" He asks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I nod gratefully and take one from him, allowing him to light it for me.

"Uh, so uh….you must be here about Dal." he states. I take a drag on the cigarette and nod my head.

"How did you know I was here?" He asks quietly. He looks a lot older than the Johnny I remember. A lot sadder too. Not at all like a sixteen year old kid. His hair is long and un-greased, falling over his eyes in stringy strands. I try not to stare at him too much, but it's so hard. I just can't believe it.

"I uh…Soda told me about this place and uh…Buck drove me here." I answer shakily. It takes all my effort to keep from reaching out and grabbing hold of him.

"Johnny…I uh….I'm scared." I tell him, shocked at my own words. That's not what I had meant to say. I had meant to say that I needed his help. That I couldn't believe he had done this to me. To the gang. I meant to say anything but that. Johnny puts his hand on my shoulder and looks into my eyes for the first time in a long while.

"Me too, Ponyboy. Everyday." He confesses. I throw my arms around him and cry into his shoulder, letting him pat my back and comfort me.

"Are you really here? Are you really alive?" I sob.

"Sometimes I don't know, to be straight honest." Johnny says with a sad laugh.

"God but I missed you something awful. You and Dally both." I tell him, continuing to cry.

"I missed you too. All of you guys. This isn't how I wanted things to turn out. When Dally told me about the plan…well, I didn't know what else to do. Believe me Pony, I didn't want to hurt you." He tells me. I pull away from him and wipe my eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"I believe you. I just don't understand it is all." I answer honestly.

"Hell I don't understand it none either Pon. One minute I'm normal old Johnny Cade, and the next I'm traveling around the country with different names. You forget who you are after a while." He tells me. I nod like I understand, but I don't. I put the cigarette out and stare at Johnny intently.

"Johnny. Johnny why did you and Dallas come back? Why was Dallas in Tulsa?" I ask him, suddenly all business.

"Shoot Pony, I don't even know how you know about all this to begin with. How did you know I was alive?" He asks. I take a deep breath and wonder where to begin.

"I talked to the cop who got you guys out of here. He told me about a drug scam involving the Shepards. That's who Soda and Steve say started the fire and killed Dallas. Then, they laid the blame on them. He's the one that told me I needed to find you. That you were the only one that knew why Dallas came back. That if I knew why he came back, then I'd be able to link it to Tim. Get Soda out of prison." I explain. The look on Johnny's face goes from understanding, to utter confusion.

"Wait, he told you that I was the only one that knew why Dally came back to Tulsa?" He asks incredulously. I nod.

"Yeah, that's what he said. Why?" I ask with itching curiosity. Johnny looks at me, as if searching for an answer I didn't have.

"Well, 'cause, he's the one that told Dally to come home."


	9. Winder the Snitch

Chapter 9 Winder the Snitch (**Darry's Point of View**)

I look at the clock again for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. It's four. Damn that kid is going to be in so much trouble when he gets home! I came home early today to have a meeting with Stefan, and when Pony didn't show up at three like he usually does, I tracked down Two-bit. I was answered with, "Oh, you didn't know? Pony didn't go to school today." Of course I didn't know that. He surely didn't inform me with this little piece of information. Damn with everything going on, he decides to skip school! It's enough to make me hit the roof.

It's also enough to make me worry my ass off. It's four. Well, now it's past four, and Pony still isn't home.

"Chill out Dar. He's probably fine. Maybe he was going to come home but saw your truck and felt like living to be fifteen." Two-bit tells me from my couch. I shrug and try to look unconcerned.

"Well, he should of thought about that _before _he skipped school." I answer, flipping through the papers that Soda's lawyer gave me to look over. Things are looking better on Steve and Soda's case. They still can't prove Tim had anything to do with fire, but they can't prove Soda and Steve did anything either. There's a huge clash between stories with Soda and Steve, and the three 'witnesses' that supposedly saw them light the fire. Who just watches someone burn a house down, is what I want to know.

And how did the real arsonists, or should I say Tim, know Dally was in that house? Alive?

**Pony's Point of View**

"Anderson told Dally to come back to Tulsa?" I ask again for the millionth time. Johnny sighs with annoyance and buries his head in his arms.

"Yes. For the last time, Anderson told Dally to come back to Tulsa." Johnny answer comes muffled through his hands. We're sitting in Buck's living room, smoking and drinking, and trying to figure out what to do next. I guess I should say that we're sitting in Buck's living room, watching him smoke and drink, while Johnny and I try to figure out what to do next.

"But that doesn't make sense! If he got you guys out of town, he'd know what would happen if you guys came back. He said Tim was angry at Dally. Why would he bring Dally home? Besides, he's the one that told me to find you, because you were the only one who knew. Why would he tell me that?" I yell.

"I don't know Pon. I don't know why he told you that." Johnny says with frustration. He looks real worn out.

"Tell me about that day. What exactly happened?" I ask. Johnny throws his arms up in the air and stands up to pace the room.

"We've been over this!" Johnny tells me.

"Just one more time. Don't leave anything out." I urge him.

"Ugh. One more time. Dally and I were in Cincinnati. Anderson was the only person who knew where we were. He called Dally up and they talked for about ten minutes. I don't know exactly what was said, but Dally seemed upset. Then he hung up. Told me he had to go to Tulsa. It was an emergency. I told him I was going too, but he refused. After a lot of arguing, I finally convinced him to bring me to Oklahoma City and drop me off where you found me. He said it was safe, and I wasn't allowed to leave. Then he was gone for about two days and then news of the fire broke out. Anderson was the only one who knew where Dally was, I'm sure of it." Johnny tells me. He stops pacing and stares at me.

"What do you think?" He asks.

"I think we're knee deep in bullshit." Buck says from the couch, where he's getting drunker by the minute. We both ignore him and I try to think over the details. Anderson tells Dally to come home. Why? Why, why, why?

"I think something's not right." I state, thinking about Winder. Winder the snitch that told Tim about Anderson's plan.

"Something's seriously, not right."

**Winder's Point of View**

I know what's going on. I should have known from the beginning, from the second I was arrested for dealing drugs with Tim. I should have known the second Anderson strapped those handcuffs around my wrists and winked at me as I was hauled away. I should have put two and two together. Or two and three. Or two and four. I just should have known. But after I got bail and the Chief promised to drop the charges as long as I retired, I made a run for it. I wanted to get out of there in one piece. Out of Tulsa. Out of the drug scam. Out of Tim's and Anderson's way.

But I'm not who I was yesterday. I'm not going to sit back and let Anderson get away with this like he has everything else. He's planning something. Something big. And when he goes through with it, I'm going to be there.


	10. Heaters and Handcuffs

Chapter 10 Heaters and Handcuffs (**Pony's Point of View**)

"That's the one." I say certainly, watching Buck as he flipped off the engine of the car and relaxed in his seat. He's still drunk, which is why his nerves are buzzed, and I wish suddenly that I had gotten drunk as well. I look over at Johnny in the back seat, who's looking as scared as I'm feeling.

"You sure this is it?" Buck asks, opening the car door without waiting for a response.

"Yep, this is it." I mutter to myself more than him. We're at Anderson's house, and as we walk up the brick stairs, I feel a sickening rush of déjà vu. Johnny strolls behind me, looking over his shoulder self-consciously, as Buck stomps right up the stairs and pounds on the door.

"Easy Buck!" Johnny hisses. I can understand why he's paranoid. I mean, showing up in a city where he's supposed to be dead. I'm not sure how many people Tulsa can stand to see come back to life.

"Where is the bastard? I know he's here!" Buck yells, twisting the doorknob. It opens easy, and he walks in like him and Anderson are best friends. Now I'm glad I'm not drunk.

"Well, are you guys coming?" Buck asks, looking at us like we're the ones that are drunk and trespassing.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe we should come back-" Johnny says nervously. I shake my head and grab his arm.

"It has to be now." I answer, pulling him through the door after Buck. I shut the door behind us, and chase after Buck who's opening Anderson's refrigerator.

"No beer. Damn this guy." Buck curses. I slam the door shut and glare at him.

"We didn't come here to rob him of alcohol." I hiss.

"No? And what did you boys come here for?" Anderson asks, causing all three of us to jump. I look at him like a kid caught lying and think of all the possible answers I could have.

"Well, Johnny seems to have come home. Come you three, to my office, I think you probably have some questions need answerin'." Anderson says, walking downstairs before we can answer him. We follow after him to an office at the back of the basement.

"Have a seat boys." Anderson says, sitting down behind a wooden desk. We obey and watch him, not saying anything.

"You know, I thought I'd see you again. Yes, you're too smart of a kid not to come back. Too smart not to find my last piece of evidence and bring him back to me. Tim said you was smart. That's why it had to be you." Anderson says taunting, drawing out a heater from his desk drawer. Buck stands up, and Johnny lets out a gasp and clutches the chair's armrests.

"I-" I begin, not sure of what to say. I don't have to time to say anything anyways though, because Anderson keeps going.

"You had us worried for a while there, didn't he Tim?" Anderson asks, standing up from his desk, and looking at the two standing figures behind us.

"Sure did Andy. Curly and I almost gave up hope. Thought the kid had hightailed it to Cali or some shit." Tim answers from behind us. Curly nods from beside him, enjoying the excitement around him. I can hardly breathe. I'm trying so hard to register what is going on.

"So, you learned the truth huh?" Anderson asks me. I look at him, and suddenly see everything. It all makes sense.

"If by that you mean, you leering Dally home so you could have him killed, then yes." I answer angrily. I silently curse myself for not getting it before.

"Yes well, I have to admit that I had always thought of Dally as smarter than that. He should have known that I couldn't leave any witnesses. When he didn't bring Johnny along, I began to worry. But then Curly and Tim told me about you and well…things worked out in the end." He answers, a smile creeping along his face. I clutch the side of my chair and stare at Johnny helplessly. I can't believe how stupid I was, bringing Johnny to his own execution.

"So…that stuff about Winder…" I ask.

"Winder was a druggie that knew too much. I couldn't have him spreading around rumors." Anderson replies harshly.

"You mean spreading around the truth!" Johnny snaps.

"Well, if you want to get technical…" Anderson says.

"So, you and Winder got involved with Tim and Curly, but things started getting out of hand. The chief started investigating the drug scam, and you wussed out. Decided to get Dally to figure it all out, knowing no one would believe him, then blame things on Winder to get rid of him. But then you got worried. Thought Winder might offer Dally and Johnny some money for the truth, so you brought them here to be killed. You knew Tim and Curly would be automatic suspects, so you dragged in Soda and Steve. Got witnesses to say they saw them." I tell him, getting everything straight in my mind. "And you actually thought you could get away with this."

Anderson laughed like a madman.

"Oh we will get away with it. As soon as we get rid of the three of you." He answers, pointing the gun at Johnny and pulling the trigger. I yank the gun out of my jacket and shoot Anderson, as Johnny falls to the floor screaming. Anderson cries out in surprise and pain, crumpling to the floor. Tim jumps on me, knocking the gun out of my hands. Curly goes to grab it, when a click from behind him stops him dead.

"Don't move, I will shoot." The deep voice warns. Winder moves into the office, with a gun in one hand, and handcuffs in the other.

"Tim and Curly Shepard, you are both under arrest for the murder of Dallas Winston."


	11. Epilogue

Chapter 11 Epilogue (**Pony's Point of View**)

Johnny and Anderson were both rushed to the hospital. Anderson was announced dead on arrival, and at one-thirty this morning, Johnny died from a gunshot wound to the chest. His last words were, "You should see the sun set across the beaches of California, Pony. Looks just like red and orange flames." I think, maybe I will someday.

You can only imagine the prosecutor's face when he heard the news of Tim and Curly's arrest. They both plead guilty for drug dealing and murder in the first degree. They'll spend the next twenty years in prison.

All charges against Steve and Soda were dropped. They were set free the day after the Shepards' arrest, and I'm figuring that maybe Steve isn't so bad. Maybe, I just need to give him a chance is all.

The chief of police retired, saying there's only so much of Dallas Winston a man can handle, and offered the job to Winder. He walked all the way to my house to tell me the news, claimed he was walking anyways and figured he'd stop by. It was the last time I ever saw him.

We stood side by side on my front porch, the silence between us saying more than words ever could. His eyes were red with exhaustion, and I wondered mildly if they reflected my own image.

"Well, I guess that's that." He choked out suddenly, looking down at his hands as if they were a new discovery.

"Yep." I answered, taking a chance by looking him in the eyes. He noticed my stare, and gave me a half-hearted grin, as he reached for something in his back pocket.

"Hold onto this for me, will you?" He asked, tossing me his police badge. I stared at it, dumbfounded for a moment, before my mind registered his question.

"Oh I couldn't-" I begin to say, but he had already turned to leave.

"Keep it kid, I don't need it anymore." He stated from over his shoulder.

"But what about what Alan said? About you being Chief?" I asked with confusion. He stopped and turned to look at me, a new light in his face.

"Chief? Me? Nah, I'm not cut out for a job like that. I'm thinking about quittin'. Becoming a firefighter. What do you think about that?" He answered. I smiled at him and shrugged.

"I think we could always use more of those." I answered.

"Yeah, 'sides, how many people you suppose would trust a drug addict for their chief of police?" He asked, giving a small, sad, laugh. I thought for a moment, clutching the badge in my hand.

"I won't tell if you won't." I answered finally. He gave me a wink and nodded up at the sky.

"Nice colors, huh?" He said, turning and walking away from the house I've lived in all my life. I watched him till he was out of sight, then looked up at the sky myself.

"Real nice." I whispered, noticing how warm the badge was in my hands.

"Like red and orange flames."


End file.
